


(Un)conditionally Yours

by orphan_account



Category: My Life as a Teenage Robot
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Flirting, Eventual Robot/Human Relationship, F/M, Friends to Lovers, High School Drama, Humiliation/Comfort, Mild Technosexuality, Scheming, Sexual Tension, Shy Exploration, Slow Romance, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-06 05:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11029716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: XJ-9 once admitted to herself that there could be a possibility of something to Sheldon that she didn't initially see—that it might not besoterrible to date him. Finding herself more frequently taking a closer look at the geeky teenager, she is forced to acknowledge that she might have been too hasty to dismiss him. Unfortunately, in her personal quest for acceptance in a high school ruled by the beautiful and popular, the process is far from quick and painless.Meanwhile, Sheldon is just Sheldon, and he likes to think that she will, in time, come to appreciate his simplistic honesty amidst her deceptive world, even if he's far from 'simple.'





	1. The Only One You (Can't) See

> _“‘Sorry’?”_ she echoed, leaning over Brad to glare at him. One of her arms shot forward and jabbed him in the chest, startling him. _“Gosh, you’re so lucky there aren’t blueprints laying around about you! How would you feel if I examined every intimate inch of **your**  body?” _

     “C’mon, Jenny! It’s a trap—why can’t you see that? And I thought you didn’t like him anymore!”

     “Oh, what do you know? You’ve never been asked out by the most popular guy in school!”

     “Nor would I want to be! My eyesight might not be the best, but even _I_ can see his unsavory intentions. Anyway, you’re way better than he is—and you deserve better than him. In fact, if I might—”

     “—Ugh, just go away, Sheldon. _Before he sees you…_ ”

     The last few words were muttered and not altogether intended for his ears, but, as Sheldon clumsily stumbled over his own feet when his robotic companion shoved him away, he heard every heart-wrenching syllable. And, as gentle as the force behind the shove was, the gesture firmly informed him that his presence was unwanted, which only served to further his distress. Once he tentatively regained his balance by grasping for the edge of a nearby desk, envy and heartbreak clutched him in its tight, suffocating grip, especially due to the way Jenny’s expression lit up at the sight of Tremorton High’s finest, Donald Prima, approaching her. Why couldn’t she look at him with a fraction of that adoration?

     His latest gift for her was stuffed in his front pocket and nestled between a pair of movie tickets, but he hadn’t had a single opportunity to present any of it before she dismissed his presence in favor of someone whose face was permanently tarnished with ignorant condescension. Did she find it attractive, being looked down upon? He couldn’t fathom why she didn’t regard Don Prima and the rest of the ‘popular’ teenagers of their school as they really were: terrible bullies who didn’t deserve an ounce of her consideration. In his humble opinion, she was far too forgiving.

     Slouching, he claimed his seat and dropped his head down on his folded arms. Between the fine strands of his dark hair, he watched Jenny fawn over the muscular blond teenager, whose nose was seemingly stuck in the air. He only caught a few words here and there, but it didn’t take him very long to piece together the nauseating scene that would come that evening—Jenny and Don Prima visiting the cinema after a quick bite at Mezmer’s.

     He sank deeper into his chair and buried his face into the maroon fabric of his hoodie. The coincidence was incredible; he himself intended to propose the very same activities, though while withholding any mention of it being a date. He was painfully aware of how she felt about the prospect of dating him, so, as far as she knew, it was supposed to provide the comfortable friendship barrier she needed.

     Sheldon’s ears perked up when his robotic interest sighed longingly and dropped into her assigned chair at the desk next to him. Peering up at her, he couldn’t help but to admire the evidence of her bliss. He was simply enchanted by the way her eyes sparkled and stared at something only she could see—by how her thin blue lips were curled into a shy, cute smile. He wanted to be the one in her line of sight, the cause for such an irresistible expression. He desired the freedom to cradle her smooth metallic jaw in his hands and stare deeply into her glassy optics. He desperately yearned to lean in and kiss those pouting synthetic lips.

     But, above all, he regretted needing to burst her bubble.

     It was all he could do to help her to recognize the danger looming on the horizon, but he had no fathomable idea why she couldn’t see it for herself. In a dejected mumble, he reminded her, “It’s a trap, you know.”

     Swiftly wiped of all former happiness, Jenny’s pretty features molded into a familiar glare, which was shot at the sulking young man. “Okay, Sheldon. I heard you the first ten times. Just drop it. **Now**.”

     Sheldon nodded glumly at the reproachful tone and turned his attention to the front of the room when the teacher called for order. Tapping his pencil against the blank sheet of his open notebook, he wished dearly to figure out how he could finally win Jenny’s elusive affections.

     Thus far, he had tried everything within his scope of imagination in order to win her over, to no avail. He couldn’t possibly be more transparent about his interest and earnest intentions toward her and liked to think that she was someone who could appreciate such raw honesty. _He_ would never try to humiliate her by staging a fake date. _He_ would never look down upon her—in fact, it was impossible, as she was the one who towered over him by around twelve inches. _He_ would never dream of treating her as anything other than the beautiful, graceful queen who held his very heart and soul between her pinched titanium-alloy digits.

     Did he outwardly appear as love-struck as he was? He simply couldn’t help himself—and maybe that was the problem. He hastily erased the little heart he had doodled in the upper-right corner of his paper. Perhaps he was a little obsessive when it came to her and could stand to tone it down… somewhat. After over a year of pining for someone who still didn’t like him the same way, he could take a hint—or fifty.

     However, Sheldon’s resolve to give Jenny the space she seemed to want from him was broken almost immediately by lunch period, though not entirely due to his own lack of self-control.

     He was dutifully on his way to an empty table with a tray of cafeteria food in his hands, mulling over the events of the previous night’s episode of _Worlds Beyond the Stars_. With his mind thoroughly distracted, the teenager was hopelessly oblivious when one of his bullies stuck his leg out across his path. His shins knocked painfully against the person’s outstretched limb, and, with a gasp, he tripped and fell forward toward the quickly approaching ground. Normally in such a situation, he would have found himself sprawled across the ground and wearing some of his food—forced to spend roughly half of his lunch hour in the bathroom making himself presentable again—and he tensed in preparation for the impact and ensuing humiliation.

     Instead, he was shocked when someone grasped the hood at the back of his neck, keeping him dangling upright and staring down at the tiled floor. The thick cloth of his hoodie slowly slid over his shoulders and down his upper arms, but, before he could shift the weight of his lunch tray to one hand and clutch the front of his hoodie closed, he was yanked backward toward his savior. He felt warmth flood his chest when he heard her sweet voice address him from behind. Who else could it have been but the one person he admired most for her kindness toward the less fortunate?

     “—all right, Sheldon?” When he said nothing, Jenny repeated, slightly louder, “I said, ‘Are you all right?’”

     “Huh? Oh!” He blinked rapidly, realizing he had inadvertently lost himself in a daydream when Jenny spun him around to face her. He could have sworn she was proposing to him, but cruel reality said otherwise. Blushing slightly, he assured her, “Y-yes, I’m fine… thanks to you.”

     “You should be more careful about where you’re walking,” she scolded lightly. Releasing him, she curled her hands into fists and narrowed her gaze at an unfortunate someone somewhere behind Sheldon. “Now, let me deal with the prankster who thought it’d be funny to trip one of my friends.”

     ‘ _Friends_.’ It never failed to please him when she acknowledged him as one of her friends. After all, to him, it was only a few steps—or letters, if you will—away from ‘ _boyfriend_.’ A crooked smile stretched his lips at the thought.

     “Hey, Shel—just the guy I needed to see,” Brad called out from his usual table, catching his attention. “Why don’t'cha sit with us today? I need you to help me persuade Jen to ditch Don Prima for some good ol’-fashioned fun and games at the Carbunkle Manor.”

     “Sure!” How could he not take the offer to sit at Jenny’s table when it was so nicely offered to him? Moreover, to decline would be very impolite. That’s what he told himself, anyway. Planting himself on the bench next to where a leaking can of oil was abandoned and setting his own lunch down on the surface, he questioned, “Wait, ‘manor’?”

     “Well, y’know, it’s still the same homely house and all, but I gotta compete with Mr. Rich Guy somehow.” Brad smiled sheepishly and busied himself with taking a sip from his milk carton. “No matter how much I try to convince her, Jenny still thinks going out on a date with a snob is more important than hanging out with her friends. We’ve gotta show her that we’re worth at least twice what he is.”

     “I’ve been trying to knock some sense into her since this morning, but she’s been ignoring me,” Sheldon admitted, swirling some of his mashed potatoes around with a plastic spork. He propped up his chin on his fist and watched Jenny while she ranted at his tormentor about the safety hazards of tripping other people. “As much as I hate to say it, I don’t think anything is going to distract her from her date tonight.”

     “Nah, don’t say that. We just need to step it up a notch; that’s all.”

     “Well, okay…” Inspired by the other teenager’s confidence, he eyed him hopefully. “What do you have in mind?”

     Brad leaned over and elbowed him gently, nodding his head toward the approaching female robot. “I’ll take the lead on this one. I’m well-versed in _The Persuasion of Jennifer Wakeman_. You can be my wingman.”

     “The nerve of some people!” Jenny exclaimed, irritated. She stomped back to her seat, but her sure steps stuttered when she realized that, in her haste to rescue Sheldon from an unceremonious tumble, she had dropped and spilled her oil. Moreover, the unpopular young man himself had taken the spot directly next to her soiled seat. It only took a few seconds of considering the awkward situation before she retrieved her partially empty beverage and ducked behind the far side of Brad instead, using him as a buffer.

     “Always the shining example of today’s heroine. Well done, Jen,” Brad complimented, shielding his eyes against the unfortunate angle of fluorescent light being reflected into his eyes from her smooth outer shell. “So, me and Sheldon were just discussing what we’re all gonna do tonight at my place. He was just telling me all about this new video game, but I’m kinda in the mood for a game of the ‘board’ variety. What d’ya think?”

     The robotic teenager groaned, obviously weary of their continued meddling in her personal affairs. Noticing her friend’s optical plight, she slightly shifted her position to alleviate it. “Do whatever you guys want to. You know that I’m busy tonight.”

     “Well, let’s be busy together,” he suggested jovially. “C’mon, it’s Friday. We always make plans for Friday night. Can’t you reschedule?”

     “No, I can’t reschedule a date with _the_ most handsome and richest boy in school. That’s a great way to find myself crushed beneath the social ladder with Sh—um, with…” she faltered, eyeing Sheldon’s crestfallen expression from over Brad’s shoulder. “It’s the opposite of what I’d like to accomplish, is all I’m saying. I don’t need more ridicule from the popular crowd.”

     “Then why don’t you get back at them for once?” Brad suggested, undeterred by the frustrated head shake Jenny gave him. “We can still go to Mezmer’s for some grub, but you can stand Don Prima up for us. It’d be hilarious; that’s the last thing he’d expect from a girl! Anyway, his pride can take a hit. Besides, I bet Sheldon can score us a discount with his sweet new hookup.”

     Surprised, Sheldon glanced up at that. He only recently applied for part-time work at Mezmer’s and had been accepted as a waiter the day before. Ever since his failed ‘jealousy’ incident with Pteresa, he was in desperate need of funds to replenish what he all but threw at her. It was a thoughtless oversight on his part; without money, he couldn’t obtain some of the necessary, expensive parts for his inventions that weren’t found in the scrapyard. That was his usual source of income—selling the products of his labor that weren’t intended to be given away as gifts to the object of his infatuation. “What? How did you…”

     The red-haired young man merely shrugged. “News travels fast in this town.”

     “But… I just—”

     “—I’m not going to stand Don Prima up,” the robotic teenager interjected through their side conversation. With a delicate frown, she crossed her arms over her chest and closed her eyes. “I wish you guys would trust me. I know it’s different this time—I can just feel it.”

     “You’re feeling what you think you want to feel,” Sheldon muttered, aggressively impaling his last few green beans with his utensil, “and not what you should.”

     “And who are you to say what I should feel, about anything?” she shot back. “You might think you know everything about me, but you **don’t**.”

     He winced at her stab; would she ever truly forgive him for stealing her master plans? He couldn’t recall if he apologized for it, but he thought he did—not that he expected an apology to make up for the intrusion of her privacy. However, it was all he had to offer. “You know I’m sorry for that, Jenny.”

     “‘Sorry’?” she echoed, leaning over Brad to glare at him. One of her arms shot forward and jabbed him in the chest, startling him. “Gosh, you’re so lucky there aren’t blueprints laying around about _you!_ How would you feel if I examined every intimate inch of _your_ body?”

     Sheldon’s eyes popped wide open, and he pulled his hoodie tighter around himself. The ability to form a verbal response eluded him. How would he feel about that? _Mortified, distressed, self-conscious,_ he thought, gulping against a thick lump in his throat. Blushing hotly, he was thoroughly aware of the thundering of his pulse in his ears. _Excited…_

     “Whoa, Jen! Don’t let a teacher hear you sayin’ stuff like that,” the red-haired young man between them chastised. “You’ll get detention for sure.”

     “I—I mean, wait, I… No!” Jenny stammered helplessly, shrinking back. Her eyes were wide, and her cheeks were dark blue with a simulated blush. “That came out wrong!”

     The two embarrassed teenagers glanced away from each other while Brad snickered at their obvious mortification. He smiled lazily at both of them and, taking pity on them, he decided to change the subject. “So, we’ll see you at my place tonight, right?”

     Jenny sighed, long and suffering. “Brad, I told you—”

     “—Great!” he chirped. “I knew we’d see eye-to-optic on this.”

     Glancing at the hanging clock across the room, Sheldon grudgingly decided it was time to head to his next class so he could fit in a little bit more studying before the scheduled exam. As much as he wanted to remain in his robotic interest’s presence, he decided it was probably best if he took his leave before more embarrassment could befall him. He moved his hand to his side, intending to push himself upright, but his fingers promptly slid through the slippery mess of oil he had forgotten about. His elbow buckled, and, with a short cry, he tumbled backward, knees still hooked over the edge of the bench. Spots of light exploded in front of his vision when his head connected with the hard tile, and, dazed, he heard Brad whistle lowly in sympathy at his contorted display.

     “Sheldon!” Jenny exclaimed, slapping a hand over her exasperated features. This time, she made no move to help him to his feet and instead seemed as if she’d rather put distance between them. “You really need to be more careful.”

     Biting his lip, Sheldon nodded and clumsily righted himself. Inwardly berating himself, he grabbed his lunch tray and fled as gracefully as he could manage. Despite his efforts, he still managed to stumble over the loose laces of one of his shoes and scatter a few unused napkins near the trashcan, and, on the way out, someone abruptly opened one of the cafeteria double doors, painfully smacking his face in the process. Pinching his red nose to stem any sort of bleeding, he scuttled through the hallway toward his locker. He usually preferred leaving lunch—or any of his classes, whenever possible—several minutes early so he could avoid the rush of students flooding the narrow hallways. Being shoved from every direction and having to wait for congregations of gossipers to disperse and allow him to reach his destination was detrimental to his mood.

     With one hand, he unlocked his locker and retrieved the chemistry and mathematics books that he needed for his last few classes of the day. Tucking them under his arm and slamming the locker door shut, he ducked into the boys’ bathroom for a few moments to wipe the oil from his hand and then assess the damage done to his nose. Deeming it nothing more than tender to the touch and slightly swollen, he hurried across the hallway to the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time to the second floor. Just as the bell rang, signaling the end of the period, he skidded to a stop next to the doorway to his chemistry class. The door swung open, and the students spilled out, allowing him to squeeze inside and find his seat at one of the long tables in the front.

     The teacher glanced at him in silent acknowledgement before going back to writing on the dry-erase board at the front of the room.

     Storing his calculus book below his chair and cracking open the chemistry one on the surface of his table, he flipped through the pages, scanning the text until he found the chapter he knew the exam would be covering. He had studied extensively for all of the last week, of course, because it was a very important test that counted for half of his final grade, but he thought it prudent to refresh his memory on a few specifics. Chemistry wasn’t his best subject—nowhere near all forms of mathematics and robotics—but he was still very good at it.

     “Nerd,” someone scoffed at his studious form, dropping into a chair somewhere behind Sheldon’s.

     He steadily ignored the insult. After all, what was wrong with being a ‘nerd’? All it accused him of was that he cared about his education and had a rather active imagination. So what if he didn’t care about earning the fake and fickle affections of the school’s worst bullies through appearance and money alone? So what if he _couldn’t?_ He didn’t need a plethora of backstabbing friends to feel secure about himself.

     Could Don Prima invent useful gadgets with his own hard-earned skills and tools? Could he perform binary functions with only his mind? Did he even know what binary functions were? Of course not; it was far beyond his scope of possibility.

     He might have spent many of his evenings dressed like a warlock of the ‘Arcane Order of the Abyssal Nexus’ to indulge in the occasional fantasy role-play—or devouring documentaries and fictional series featuring deep-space exploration—but he liked to think he had much more to offer than someone like Don Prima… or Sebastian, Travis, and any other cookie-cutter guys Jenny would inevitably date instead of Sheldon himself. He might not have had a jaw seemingly cut from calcified diamond or a body bulging with attractive bundles of fibrous tissue, but he was intelligent enough to hold an engaging conversation about the bounding effects of the heliopause on solar wind, at the same time as appreciating the advanced capabilities and higher functions of Jenny’s central circuitry and positronic brain.

     Although he stared at his chemistry book for the five minutes before the exam, he hadn’t absorbed a word of it as his thoughts drifted further into more frivolous topics. However, it wouldn’t affect his grade at all; it would be a perfect score, he would later discover—as usual.

     As self-assured about himself as he thought he was, what did a perfect score matter if Jenny nearly died of embarrassment every time he was near because of it? He had never been more conflicted, and he stressed over it all the way through chemistry and calculus and all the way to his home and, from there, the modest Carbunkle residence.

 _Well, I can lose myself in some board games with Brad and Tuck_ , he mused, ringing the doorbell and shifting his weight onto his other foot, _and try to forget about Jenny making eyes at that thick-skulled jerk._

     He tried to cheer himself up at the thought of spending time with the Carbunkle brothers, some of the few people who wanted to be his friends, but he couldn’t help but to acknowledge the pit burrowed in his heart. If Jenny had agreed to join them, he’d enjoy himself so much more; she always brightened any part of his life she stepped into. It was difficult to enjoy himself when he knew, without a doubt, that she was going to have her heart broken at the same time.

     The urge to check on her date—and possibly do whatever he could to both ruin and save it—was powerful, and he very nearly decided to ditch his two male friends for it. However, before he could rush away, the door swung open, and Brad appeared before him, friendly and smiling as he always was.

     “Wanna go see what Jenny’s up to?” the red-haired teenager slyly suggested before he could say a word. “Tuck’s got this after-school thing, so it’ll just be the two of us. Think of it as a covert rescue operation.”

 _I shouldn’t. Jenny will be angry_ , his rational mind warned. Sheldon had been conditioned to expect her anger whenever he interfered. She found his presence almost abhorrent when it was unrequested, and it would be doubly so when in the company of someone of the popular crowd of their school.

     To him, there was only one logical answer—“Are you kidding? Let’s go!”


	2. Two Pairs of (Intrusive) Eyes

> _“You know, if we really wanted to ruin the date, we could speak to management and tell them that we have reason to believe that the butter was contaminated with a swarm of extraterrestrial arachnids that are irresistibly attracted to the color yellow—and, in the process, their phosphorous-based bodies disintegrated in the one-hundred-eleven-and-a-half-degree butter and released deadly toxins as a defense mechanism.”_

     Brad and Sheldon peeked through the window into the bustling activity within the teenagers’ paradise known as Mezmer’s. They scanned the crowd of mingling bodies, searching for the familiar hint of blue. It was unexpectedly difficult to spot a towering metallic blue girl, but their efforts were soon rewarded when the teenagers parted briefly, revealing Jenny to them. It was impossible to hear anything but the thumping of the bass through the thick glass, but her sunny disposition was undeniable.

     “She seems to be enjoying herself,” Brad commented. “Nothin’ wrong with this picture so far.”

     “Well, _now_ she is,” Sheldon argued, pressing his hands against the glass and ignoring the looks he was getting from a few of the people inside the restaurant, “but what about when they’re alone in the theater together? Who knows what could happen then? I don’t trust him for an instant!”

     “We need to get inside somehow so we can get a closer look, but we’re gonna have to get creative if we wanna pull this off.” The red-haired teenager tapped a finger to his jaw. After a moment, he shifted himself up onto his tiptoes and craned his neck. “And… that’s what I’m talkin’ about!”

     Sheldon noticed the triumphant smile spreading across his friend’s face and turned to see what had abruptly captured his attention. It was a struggle because he wasn’t nearly as tall as Brad, but, once a few people moved out of his way, it became obvious what it was.

     “Shel, are you thinkin’—”

     “—What you’re thinking?” he finished for him. “Considering the trajectory of your line of sight, I’d have to say, ‘Yes, I’m thinking what you’re thinking.’ But it’ll be risky.”

     “ _Hey!_ ”

     Sheldon and Brad screeched at the unexpected exclamation and spun around to find Mr. Mezmer himself out on the sidewalk, clutching a full trash bag and squinting at them suspiciously.

     “Why’re you lurkin’ out here? Either go inside and order something… or get lost! I don’t appreciate loiterers or stalkers.” However, before they could do as he ordered, the older man called out, “Wait a second—don’t I know you?”

     “Ah, yes, of course!” Brad responded, fixing his shirt collar before stepping forward to offer his hand. “I’m pleased that you remember me, Mr. M. I used to work for you. I’m Br—”

     “—Not you, boy.” He critically eyed Sheldon, who attempted to hide himself behind Brad’s dejected form. “You. Didn’t I hire you? Shouldn’t you be workin’?”

     “Yes, sir—er _,_ uh…” Sheldon winced at his own stammering. “…No, sir. I—I mean, you did hire me, but I don’t work until tomorrow. I’m a part-timer; that’s what I meant.”

     Mr. Mezmer only narrowed his eyes at the intimidated young man before turning away and heading toward the dumpster, mumbling to himself about suspicious teenagers. Before he disappeared back inside the restaurant from where he came, he yelled again, “I mean it; either go inside or get lost!”

     “How could we refuse an offer like that?” Brad shrugged his shoulders, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and strolled toward the front entrance with Sheldon trailing in his wake.

     Moments later, after having dodged and squeezed their way through a wall of bodies, the two of them were finishing up their disguises, wrapped in matching white aprons and wedge caps that they found folded into neat piles on top of the serving counter.

     “Ah, this brings back memories.” Brad grabbed a broomstick from behind the counter and shoved it into Sheldon’s hands. He had to yell to be heard over the music when he ordered, “Go try to see what’s goin’ on. There’s, uh, something else that needs my attention. Good luck!”

     He wasn’t given a chance to question what that ‘something else’ was—despite wearing the uniform, Brad melded with the other teenagers seamlessly. With his broom in-hand, the geeky young man drifted as close to Jenny as he dared to. All the while, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her pretty smile and the way she sparkled under the lights.

     It was obvious that she was enjoying herself immensely. He hardly ever saw her that happy—a notion that would have tugged at his heart if he hadn't been so entranced.

 _Gosh, she’s divine._ Was he drooling? He hoped not.

     Utterly fixated on Jenny, he dropped the broom when a pair of dancing teenagers roughly and unapologetically bumped into him. The noise of the wooden stick clattering to the tiled floor was shrill to him, but, in reality, it was almost completely drowned out in the loud music. But even the volume of the jukebox couldn’t mask the sweet voice of his infatuation, which he realized with panicked dread—as he bent over to retrieve the fallen broom—was addressing him.

     “Hey, waiter, can I get another bottle of oil over here, please?” Jenny repeated, freezing him in his tracks. She was oblivious to his turmoil over the request—as well as, it seemed, his identity—but, thankfully, the problem was resolved almost immediately without any effort on his part.

     “Sorry, babe, but there’s no time for that,” Donald drawled from across the table. “We need to get going, or we’ll miss the movie.”

     “Oh, right!” She tittered nervously, hiding her mouth behind one hand. “Actually, hold the oil!”

 _I refuse to thank him_ , Sheldon thought stubbornly. He heaved a relieved sigh and, with his head ducked, quickly headed toward the distracted form of Brad, who was leaning suggestively against a table and chatting with a very attractive blonde. He shouldn’t have needed to remind the other teenager why they were at Mezmer’s, but it seemed that his mind had been hopelessly wiped blank by the sight of the cute face that was currently smiling coyly at his flirtations.

     “Give me a second.” Brad impatiently brushed him off. “I’ll meet you outside, all right? I just gotta… do something first. Trust me, it’s a matter of life or death.”

     Rolling his eyes, Sheldon left him to his mission. When he turned around, he immediately spotted the gleaming shell of a certain approaching robotic female. With a gasp, he hurriedly bent over and pretended to fiddle with the jukebox in order to hide his face while Jenny and Donald brushed past him. His eyes followed their progress the entire way, and, once they stepped out into the early evening light, he reached back to rid himself of his apron. As he was fiddling with the knot keeping the starched cloth together, someone’s hand landed on his shoulder and spun him around.

     “I don’t know what you and your friend are up to, but don’t think you’re getting paid for this hour!” Mr. Mezmer muttered before releasing him. He glared at him from over his spectacles. “Now, don’t come back until tomorrow—and leave the tomfoolery at home!”

     “Yes, sir!” Sheldon gulped. He untied his apron, folding it neatly over the counter, before depositing the wedge cap on top of the pile of cloth. With that, he fled the restaurant with Brad suddenly at his heels. “Jeez, I’m not gonna have a job at this rate…”

     “Well, it wasn’t a total loss.” The red-haired teenager flashed a small scrap of napkin, on which was a neatly printed phone number. He was beaming widely and appeared faintly sweaty, as if he had run a marathon.

     “Congratulations.” He attempted to sound happy for Brad’s accomplishment, but it came out more like a deadpan. Thankfully, it didn’t seem that his friend noticed because he was too busy staring at the number, most likely to memorize it in case it blew away in the wind. He shook his head at his antics, exasperated.

     Tremorton’s cinema was a short walk from Mezmer’s, as most things were in the small town. For the few blocks’ worth of distance, they followed behind at a leisurely pace and were far across the street when Jenny and Donald stopped to purchase tickets from the clerk outside of the cinema. Giving the couple a wide berth and several minutes to purchase snacks and find their seats, Sheldon and Brad were finally free to approach the front entrance to do the same.

     “I’ve got this one.” After briefly toying with Jenny’s gift in his pocket, Sheldon pulled the movie tickets out and flashed them at the bored clerk, who waved them through the open doors. “I bought these special online; they can be redeemed for any movie we choose at any time we desire—perfect for the indecisive moviegoer.”

     “Why, Shel, you shouldn’t have.” Brad smiled toothily at his geeky friend before comically fluttering his eyelashes. “I’m flattered, but I don’t think I’m interested—but maybe I’d change my mind over a supreme-sized box of Milk Dots…”

     “Quiet, you,” he huffed, handing his pre-purchased tickets over to the usher standing in their path. He didn’t find it particularly amusing and considered the money essentially wasted because it wasn’t Jenny at his side. Moreover, as he thought about it, he realized he inadvertently paid money to watch her date another guy, and it made him slightly sick to his stomach. Perhaps he needed to start questioning his irresponsible financial decisions… “I didn’t buy them for you, and you very well know that.”

     “Hey, relax.” Brad placed a hand on his tense shoulder and offered a small but sincere smile. “At least they’re not completely wasted, right?”

     “That depends on your definition of ‘wasted,’” Sheldon pointed out. “If you don’t consider it a waste to spend twenty dollars to feel utterly rejected, then, good sir, I have to respectfully disagree. Oh—want any popcorn?”

     The red-haired teenager perked up at the mention of the buttery treat. “Uh, duh. Who goes to the movie theater and doesn’t get popcorn?”

     “Then get me one, too, please, since I covered the tickets. Meet you inside!” He smiled at his friend’s disgruntled expression and strolled away toward their destination. Slipping his hand into his pocket, he palmed the small gift again. He really wished he had been able to give it to her earlier; seeing the pleased look on her face was half of the reward. At this rate, he was going to have to leave it somewhere and hope she found it, but the thought wasn’t nearly as satisfying. He decided to hang onto it for a little longer.

     Inside the mostly empty theater, while peeking over the divider wall that kept him hidden from any seated moviegoers, he quickly found that Jenny was nowhere to be seen and that Donald Prima—lounging just behind the front-most row—had his cell phone in-hand and was busy tapping away at it. Fortunately, the popular teenager was completely oblivious to his presence.

     Suddenly, Sheldon was startled—to the point that he nearly yelped aloud—when someone snuck up behind him and tapped him on the back to get his attention. However, to his immense relief, it wasn’t his robotic infatuation wielding a destructive laser.

     “I could only afford one medium since my parents cut my allowance for letting my grades slip,” Brad explained apologetically while gesturing to his overflowing popcorn container, clearly having misread the reason for his friend’s annoyed glare. “So, I guess we’re sharin’.”

     “Prima’s alone. Hmm. Jenny must have gone to the restroom to freshen up or something,” Sheldon speculated quietly, though loud enough to be heard over the pre-movie advertisements playing on the floor-to-ceiling projector screen at the front of the room. “This is the perfect time to get to our seats without being seen.”

     “Right behind ya.”

     Together, they crept up the stairs that would take them to the top-most row of cascading seats. They chose a pair of shadow-doused folding chairs close to the wall and plopped onto the plump red cushions. From their vantage point, they could see everything that was happening while staying relatively unnoticed, which perfectly suited their needs.

     “Get down!” came Brad’s panicked whisper.

     Sheldon didn’t have any time to react before he was shoved down and out of sight. Minutely poking his head up, he watched as Jenny crossed in front of the screen and took her place next to Don just as the lights dimmed.

     They remained hidden and vigilant through the previews. All the while, both of them expected Jenny to turn around and call up to them, to reveal that she knew they were there the whole time—but she never did. They considered themselves fortunate that she was so distracted.

     Finally, when the title credits signaled the beginning of the movie, Brad straightened back up and released his dark-haired companion, allowing him to do the same. He reclined in his chair and propped his leather loafers up on the back of the chair in front of him. “Okay. I doubt she’ll notice anything other than him or the movie, so I guess we can get comfy.”

     “Somehow, that doesn’t comfort me.” Sheldon decided not to mimic Brad’s relaxed pose and instead crossed his feet at the ankles and folded his hands in his lap. It was a struggle to keep his eyes glued to the glowing screen—and not only because it was tedious to absorb what immediately promised to be a very predictable premise of the film. Part of him wanted to jump to his feet and flee back to the privacy of his home because it was painful being so close to Jenny but unable to catch the attention he craved, but he kept that irrational, envious part of him carefully reined in.

 _You made your bed, Sheldon_ , he told himself. _Now you must lay in it… even if it’s lumpy… and very uncomfortable._

     While Sheldon moodily stewed beside him, Brad, appearing completely relaxed in his leisurely pose, flipped up the armrest between their seats so he could wedge the bucket of popcorn in its place for easy access.

     For the most part, they remained silent, far too busy shoveling popcorn into their mouths to speak. Although the geeky teenager was determined to ignore anything but what was directly ahead of him, his red-haired friend kept glancing at their targets, especially when Jenny’s laughter broke the tedium and floated up toward them.

     “I don’t like this,” Sheldon muttered, though he savored Jenny’s sweet, bell-like giggles and pondered how he could make her laugh with him in the same way. Antsy, he was unable to stop himself as his eyes darted from the screen to the shadowy couple, growing more and more unhappy with the way she leaned closer to his enemy so they could exchange private banter. “I’m not sure how much of this I can sit through, Brad.”

     “Yeah, you’re right. The lines are so tacky, and I’m almost bored to tears by this clichéd plot even though it only just started.” Brad stifled a yawn. “Granted, I will admit that they picked some really good-lookin’ actors. After all, with faces and bodies like those, who cares what kinda garbage comes out of their mouths?”

     “Then…” he began slowly, “…let’s sabotage?”

     The suggestion had Brad perking up with a devious smirk. “Oh-ho- _ho_ , I like how you think, Shel. All right, I’ll start us off: Does Don Prima seem like the kind of person to turn his cell phone ringer off during a movie?”

     “Absolutely not,” Sheldon responded haughtily. “He’s rude and selfish… and a complete—um, why, do you have his number or something?”

     “No, but I know someone who can give it to me.” Brad pulled out his own cell phone and began tapping away at its dimmed screen. “ _Aaand_ … done. What do you say, should we try to get him kicked out for disrupting our otherwise pleasant movie-going experience?”

     “Okay. But how are we going to do that?” He glanced at the empty seats all around them. “We’re the only ones in here.”

     “Hmm, good point.”

     They fell silent for a few moments while the main character of the film bumbled through the first of many painfully awkward flirtation sessions with the obvious love interest.

     “You know, if we really wanted to ruin the date, we could speak to management and tell them that we have reason to believe that the butter was contaminated with a swarm of extraterrestrial arachnids that are irresistibly attracted to the color yellow—and, in the process, their phosphorous-based bodies disintegrated in the one-hundred-eleven-and-a-half-degree butter and released deadly toxins as a defense mechanism.”

     Brad turned his head to stare at his friend, eyebrow jutting high on his forehead. “Uh…”

     “They couldn’t possibly allow their customers to think nothing’s wrong, especially if we tell them that the toxins will make everyone very, very sick if not treated within the next few hours,” Sheldon continued, busying himself with picking at some dried oil on one of his fingernails. “They would be forced to close the cinema, and the date would end prematurely—and all it would take is one painless phone call.”

     “Wow… you’ve given this some real thought.”

     “I watch a lot of _Science-Fiction Theater_ ,” he admitted sheepishly.

     His friend chuckled uneasily. “We’ll keep that one on the backburner for now. It’ll be our ace-in-the-hole. But, for now, let’s see what else we can come up with.”

     Quietly, they continued to discuss possible sabotage, but each proposed idea became more and more ridiculous—more of a fun and competitive conversation than anything intended to be carried out. More than once, unable to help themselves, they broke out into fits of snickering that had to be stifled to avoid being discovered.

     “ _And how exactly do you expect to sneak up to the projector room and change the movie without being caught?_ ”

     “ _It’s no worse than what you suggested. Really, Sheldon? I’d love to see you hack the air conditioner with just a cell phone and some tin foil._ ”

     “ _Don’t worry; I’ll make a believer out of you. Seriously, I could do this in my sleep._ ”

     Finally, Sheldon turned his attention to the dwindling snack supply. Common courtesy dictated that he offer it to his friend, even if he didn’t mind finishing it. “The popcorn’s almost gone. Want any more?”

     “Nah, you can have the rest. For some reason, I’ve got this terrifying mental image of melting space spiders stuck in my head, and I lost my appetite long ago.” Brad shot him a playfully reproachful look. “I guess that was your plan all along, you sly dog.”

     He grinned and held his hands up in surrender. “Heh, heh, you got me…”

     Suddenly, the film’s main character’s dramatic monologue about his resolution to win over the stubborn love interest was interrupted by an extremely distinct and familiar voice ringing out, “XJ-9!”

     “ ** _Mom_** _! Shhh!_ ”

     A very satisfied smile curled Sheldon’s lips. He tossed a handful of popcorn into his mouth and contently chewed the puffy kernels. After swallowing, he licked the buttery residue from his fingers and wiped them on his hoodie. “Ah, perfect timing as always, Dr. Wakeman. Lo and behold, this problem may just take care of itself.”

     “No kidding. If Jen doesn’t blow off the date to fight some space monster, embarrassment alone will drive her far away.”

     The dark-haired teenager’s eyes followed Jenny’s attractively glinting silhouette as she leaped out of her seat and rushed across the aisle with her retractable communicative monitor clutched tightly to her chest. He felt so much better already at the sight of the high-and-mighty Donald Prima sitting alone and abandoned during a romantic film.

 _At long last, your overdue comeuppance arrives_ , he thought smugly. Shoving the last of the popcorn into his mouth, he promptly choked on it.

     “Hey, what’s she doing back already?” Brad pointed out, suspicious. “That wasn’t nearly enough time to argue with Wakeman or defeat an alien threat. That wasn’t even enough time to leave the theater!”

     Forcing his snack down his scratchy throat, the geeky teenager replied in a disappointed rasp, “Oh, knowing Jenny, she probably detached the monitor and tossed it in the trash or something… but she really shouldn’t shirk her superhero duties for a pointless date.”

     At Sheldon’s suddenly sour tone and dejected posture, his red-haired friend leaned over and elbowed him good-naturedly in the ribs. The action was accompanied by a particularly sly and knowing smile. “C’mon, Shel, you’d be singin’ a _waaay_ different tune if you were in Don Prima’s shoes right now. Admit it.”

     “I—well, that is… No, of course not! I’d completely understand if she had to leave our date to save the world. Who am I to stand in the way of justice? After all, that’s something I really admire about her. She’s my hero.”

     Brad smiled lazily at his gushing. “What don’t you admire about her? That’d be a much shorter list.”

     “That’s true; Jenny has her flaws, just like everyone else. But what kind of a person would I be if I didn’t appreciate all of her? She has the capacity to do a lot of good—while sometimes putting her own feelings ahead of that. But how could I blame her for something so human?” He sighed longingly and leaned forward to wrap his arms around the headrest of the chair in front of him. He propped his chin on top of it and stared down at Jenny while he spoke. “I guess we’re kinda the same in that way. I can’t remember all the times I’ve really messed up because I tried to force my feelings on her.”

     “You’re a tenacious guy, I’ll give ya that. And who knows? Maybe Jen will realize you’re not as bad as she might sometimes think you are and give you a chance. All I’m sayin’ is that anything’s possible.”

     “I don’t know if I should take that as a good or bad thing—oh, what am I saying? I’m spying on her after she told me to leave her alone! I am that bad…” He hung his head at the shameful realization. As much as he denied it, his emotions always spiraled out of control and sharply knocked his rational mind aside when it came to Jenny. “No wonder she doesn’t like me…”

     “Hey, c’mon, I didn’t say that. Y’know, she considers you part of ‘the group’ now. I mean, think about it. Would she really wanna hang out with you if she hated you?”

     “Hated… me,” he echoed with an anxious gulp. The words sent a hollow stab through his pounding heart. He couldn’t bear the thought of her ever hating him—the thought that he could be _capable_ of earning her hate. Hopefully it never came to that… but he could recall some of the many instances that she yelled or glared at him because his presence was unwanted, intrusive, or irritating.

     “You do come on strong sometimes, but you’re not here ‘cause you wanna date her, right? You’re here ‘cause you’re a concerned friend.”

     He nodded earnestly. “I want to make sure nothing happens to her. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I let that muscle-head or his friends hurt someone as kind and sweet as Jenny.”

     “All righty, then.” Brad flashed him a toothy grin. “See, you’re not so bad. Cheer up; one spy-session isn’t gonna hurt anything.”

     “Um… it will if we sabotage her date and embarrass her.”

     “Yeah, okay, you’ve got a point there. Eh, I guess we should just sit back and let her enjoy the rest of her evening. But, like the great friends we are, we’re staying here to make sure nothing goes terribly wrong—and to make sure she doesn’t see us doing it.”

     Having accomplished absolutely nothing all evening, the two young men reluctantly ceased their plotting and sat through the remainder of the movie in silence. In the meanwhile, the main character dramatically won over his love interest and her skeptical friends, and Sheldon watched with a heavy heart, wishing it were that easy in real life. The first kiss and the several following it were dramatic and breathtakingly scenic, and the movie faded to black, leaving Brad with a fuzzy, satisfied feeling in his chest—it wasn’t nearly as terrible as he made it out to be.

     As the theater lights returned to their original bright intensity, the dark-haired teenager was disappointed that Jenny hadn’t found a reason to storm away from the date early; somehow, the infamously snobby and obnoxious Donald remained gentlemanly and therefore pleasant company all the way to the end of the date. The two of them were even laughing together like a pair of giddy children. He couldn’t believe it.

     “Down!”

     Sheldon once again found himself shoved down in his chair to avoid being seen by the exiting couple. They waited until the ending credits finished rolling on the screen before deeming it safe enough to stand and make their own way out.

     “All right, she’s probably gone by now.” With a yawn, Brad stretched his arms high above his head and popped his stiff joints. “Let’s ditch this place before someone thinks we _actually_ enjoyed the movie. Pfft. Yeah, right. Ahem.”

     “Yeah, agreed.”

     The two friends descended the stairs and wound their way back around the divider wall to the neon-marked exit that would spit them back out into the lobby, though not before disposing of the empty popcorn container within the convenient receptacle waiting for them.

     Brad held the door open for Sheldon before letting it swing shut behind them. “So—”

     “—Ah- _ha!_ ”

     They nearly jumped out of their skin at the sudden exclamation and the intimidating picture of Jenny towering over them, her hands planted atop her hips and a glare on her face. She was alone.

     “You guys were spying on me!” Jenny accused, taking a threatening step forward and narrowing her eyes further. “I should’ve known.”

     “Spying? On _you_ _?_ Of course we weren’t; that’d be sick and depraved!” Brad deflected. He flung an arm around Sheldon’s shoulders and pulled him close, and they flashed identical, slightly crazed grins at her in their shared nervousness. “Oh, so _you_ can go out and watch movies with Don Prima, but _I_ can’t hang out with my buddy, Sheldon, at the same time? That’s totally unfair, Jen. You know there’s only one cinema in Tremorton.”

     “Well… no, that’s fine,” she grudgingly acquiesced. She crossed her arms and arched a disbelieving eyebrow. “I just find it unlikely that you’d do it on the same night—at the same time and in the same movie—as my date. Which you both knew about… and complained about all day long. And tried to talk me out of many times.”

     “C’mon, it’s Friday night. Is that really so crazy a coincidence?”

     “Maybe. I mean, do you even like this kind of movie?” Jenny glanced meaningfully at the silent Sheldon. “I thought you would’ve preferred the sci-fi movie that just came out—uh, _Zombie Robots: First Contact_ … or whatever it was.”

     Her words perked him up slightly, as pleased with her observation as he was. She knew him too well; Sheldon definitely would have preferred that. In fact, that had been precisely his plan for the two of them. In a roundabout way, they did end up watching a movie together, but he had imagined it quite differently, including finding small reasons to lean closer to her under the cover of darkness—while seated beside her in an intimate corner, just the two of them. He hadn’t anticipated sitting on the completely opposite side of the theater from her, sharing a bucket of popcorn with Brad and plotting about ten different ways to gloriously and anonymously ruin the evening.

     “Sure, who doesn’t enjoy a nice romantic flick every now and again?” Brad smoothly adjusted to the accusations. “Sheldon here is secretly a romantic—not that it’s _really_ a secret or anything… He was just embarrassed to see it alone.”

     Sheldon grinned sheepishly. As his face heated up, he fanned himself with one hand. It wasn’t far from the truth. In the past, he indulged in a fair few romantic films, usually while pretending Jenny was at his side. “Well, y’know, heh, heh, if the mood strikes…”

     “Being the great friend that I am—and since I had nothing else to do tonight—I didn’t mind tagging along. Even if the popcorn was expensive.”

     “…Okay, fine,” Jenny surrendered in light of their surprisingly solid excuses. “I guess—”

     “—What did that jerk do to you?” Sheldon demanded before he could think better of it. He shrugged helplessly when Brad groaned at his lack of tact.

     She narrowed her eyes dangerously at his tone, watching him shrink under the intensity. “Nothing; I’m fine. Nothing went wrong like you guys said it would. In fact, it couldn’t have gone better! Don invited me out tomorrow night, too, because we had such a great time together.” To punctuate, she stuck out her synthetic blue tongue at them.

     “He’s lulling you into a false sense of security!” Sheldon insisted, frustrated with her inability to see what was so painfully obvious to him. How many times could he phrase it before she understood? “Now I know for sure he has something planned! Jenny, you **can’t** go.”

     “I’ve gotta side with Sheldon here, Jen,” Brad interjected firmly but sympathetically. “I know you wanna be popular, but this isn’t the right way. Don’t you remember all those times the Crust Cousins pretended to like you just so they could turn it around on you? This is probably the exact same thing. Heck, they might even be in on it and havin’ a good maniacal laugh as we speak.”

     Jenny drooped, her eyes averting to the ground at her feet. She seemed to mull over their words, but, when she straightened back up, she was frowning with hardened resolve. “I appreciate the concern, guys, but I’d rather figure this one out on my own. I mean, who knows? Maybe he really does like me. I won’t know unless I give it a try.”

     “But what if he humiliates you or breaks your heart?” Sheldon stressed, staring up at her with wide, pleading eyes. He reached out and took her hands into his. “Is it really worth finding out?”

     She briefly glanced down at their joined hands before darting her eyes between her two concerned friends. Despite the seriousness etched into both of their features and words, she smiled. Gently prying her hands out of Sheldon’s, she tapped a finger to her jaw in thought. “Well, if it does come to that, I still have you guys, right? Besides, I’m a superhero. I can’t lock myself away because I’m too afraid of what _could_ happen.”

     “Will happen,” Sheldon corrected quietly.

     “Anyway… I really need to get home. Mom wanted to show something to me earlier, but I totally blew her off. Don’t wanna get grounded for a month.” She waved at them and called out, “Bye, guys!” before activating her rocket boosters and zipping away through the open cinema doors.

     “…Ugh. What a disaster,” the geeky teenager lamented in her absence.

     “Aw, don’t say that. Trust me, it could’ve been way worse.” Brad shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and strolled away with his hands tucked into his pockets. “She could’ve kissed Don while strangling us.”

     Sheldon pouted miserably at the nauseating mental image and kicked a discarded popcorn container out of his path with more force than was necessary.

     He forgot to give his gift to her—again.


End file.
